


when we are kings

by RosieClark



Series: Rosie's BTHB prompts [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: BTHB, F/M, Left for Dead, Prompt Fill, galra prison, post cannon au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24193975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieClark/pseuds/RosieClark
Summary: “I will return. I’ll bring an army and I’ll find you, we’ll break this place stone by stone.”Lance just lets out a dry chuckle. “Crushing these dungeons, not stopping until every last one of these places is destroyed and every prisoner is returned to their families.”“We will be kings.”
Relationships: Lance/Pidge | Katie Holt
Series: Rosie's BTHB prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730326
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	when we are kings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashkazora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashkazora/gifts).



> another prompt fill for my bthb! this one's for @ashkazora, the prompt being 'left for dead'. There are still spaces available so if you want a prompt filled, head over to my tumblr and send in a request! 
> 
> im trying to take a different approach to these prompts then whats typically expected, and while listening to When We Are Kings from the Count of Monte Cristo musical, this idea was born. 
> 
> Also huge thanks to Eden and Ivy for the betaing! Y'all made this fic way better than it used to be!

“Mister Lance!” Oger shakes his cellmate gently, careful not to aggravate any of the new wounds. “Mr. Lance, wake up! We gotta get out of here!”

Lance groans, opening his eyes. “What?”

“The doors suddenly opened!” The boy continues excitedly, barely able to control his delight. “They say someone’s hacked the system, letting us all go free!” He tugs at Lance’s hand. “We gotta go!”

“Hacked?” His voice is thick with sleep, but his eyes are alert. “That's impossible.”

“Say that to the open door.”

Lance’s gaze turns behind him, and his mouth opens slightly at their exit, unlocked and waiting to be used. “And the guards?” 

"Occupied by an outside attack! Now’s our chance!” Oger’s grinning so hard he’s afraid it's going to break his face. “Come on!”

“Listen kid, I’m right behind you.” Lance winces as he tries to sit up. “Just let me rest for a while.”

“Oh no Mr. Lance, I can’t leave you!” Oger moves, lifting Lance’s arm over his shoulders and straining to haul the older, taller, heavier man up. “We’ll go together.”

Lance grunts, gently removing his arm from his grip and slumping against the wall of their cell. “No, you go on. I just need a minute.”

“Come on Mr. Lance!” Oger can’t keep the whine out of his voice. “Come on!”

“Oger.” Lance’s voice is low, his eyes cool and unwavering. “You go.”

  
  


_Oger flips onto his side, facing his cellmate. “Tell me again what’s going to happen when we get out of here.”_

_“Well,” Lance starts, grinning like an idiot. “We’ll steal a ship and contact my team. They’ll pick us up and probably stick us in the healing pods for a bit. Then we’ll get in touch with your mom and while she’s on her way to us we’ll play video games and eat Hunk’s fantastic cooking and I’ll even make you a milkshake.”_

_Oger closes his eyes, letting the dream wash over him. “I can’t wait.”_

_“Neither can I. You’re going to love the team. Allura and Shiro will probably fuss over you. Keith will force you to train with him, but it's his way of showing you he cares. Hunk will make you all the food you could possibly eat and Pidge—”_

_The young boy opens his eyes. “And Pidge?”_

_In the darkness he can just make out Lance wiping a tear off his cheek. “Well, Pidge will beat you in any video game.”_

_“That sounds alright with me.” Oger yawns, sleep threatening to take over. “I can’t wait to meet her.”_

_“You’ll know her when you see her.” Lance’s eyes got this far away look to them, and a soft smile dawned his features. “Crazy hair, curious eyes. The biggest smile whenever she’d solve a problem or fix a bug. Always determined; once she got her mind on something there's no stopping her.” He frowns, looking directly at Oger. “Don’t you go making a move on her, son.”_

_“Oh don’t worry Mr. Lance,” he shakes his head furiously. “That won’t be a problem, I can assure you.”_

_The older man’s eyes sharpen into a glare, making shivers run down Oger’s spine. “Why? Is she not good enough for you?”_

_“Wha—” he sputters, flushing bright red. “No, no, no Mr. Lance, of course not, I mean she sounds lovely and all, but—”_

_“Oger.” Lance’s voice is calm, and when Oger looks at him, he sees a teasing smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’m just teasing.”_

_“Of course.” Another yawn._

_Lance flips onto his back, one arm serving as a pillow. “This old man needs his beauty sleep. Try and get some rest okay?”_

_But Oger’s eyes were already closing._

  
  


The boy shakes his head, a small part of him already knowing what the older man means. He takes a step back, taking in the man he’d come to love like a second father. Lance looks terrible, giant bags under his eyes, his tan skin pale and sickly. From the way he’s clutching his ribs, Oger can tell the last session in the death room hadn’t gone nicely. “What’s wrong?” 

“Few bruises, maybe a broken rib or two?” Lance puts on a brave face and waves his hand at the door. “You go on ahead. I’ll follow behind.”

_I’ll only slow you down_. The unspoken words hang heavy in the air. Oger might just be a kid, but he’s not a fool. He knows what Lance means to do.

That’s Lance for you—always willing to sacrifice himself for others, his heart as big as the universe. Oger can't remember how many times the older man placed the blame on himself instead, how many torture sessions he endured on his behalf.

“I will return. I’ll bring an army and I’ll find you, we’ll break this place stone by stone.”

Lance just lets out a dry chuckle. “Crushing these dungeons, not stopping until every last one of these places is destroyed and every prisoner is returned to their families.”

“We will be kings.”

“Yeah, we will.” Lance points a finger at him. “Remember what I taught you.”

Oger stands up straighter, saying the words as if reciting a pledge. “Don’t let them break you, always tell someone if you love them, never give up hope.”

“And?” Lance raises a brow.

“Patience yields focus.”

“Good boy.” Lances brings a hand up to rub his beard. Oger has never seen Lance clean shaven — the prison guard doesn’t allow razors — but the older man told him numerous stories of his glory days. Apparently he was quite the catch. _Lover boy Lance_ , they called him, _there goes the Sharpshooter_ , they would chant.

(Somehow Oger doesn’t believe the last one.)

“Do me a favor, will you?”

“Anything.” And Oger means it. He knows that he’ll do anything the man before him asks of him no matter how crazy. He owes this man his life. During his time in prison, Lance told him countless stories of his own life. How he’d been a Paladin of Voltron and fallen for his best friend. From his time teaching at the Garrison, sending dreamers into space. Oger’s favorite story was the one of his wedding day, only for the look on his face as he describes his bride.

Some nights, when he would wake up screaming, crying for his mother, Lance would sing him to sleep in a strange language — Spanish was it? — and stay beside him until morning. He asked him once if he had any children of his own, but Lance just shook his head and gave him a sad smile. Oger knows his cellmate waits for him to fall asleep before he lets his own tears fall. 

He owes this man everything.

  
  


_Oger tries to keep his tears at bay as he gently dabs at Lance’s forehead. The guards had thrown him onto the floor after three days in the death room. The longest anyone stayed and survived. Somehow Oger managed to get him onto his bed, but the older man had yet to open his eyes._

_“It should have been me,” Oger sniffles into the older man’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”_

_“Don’t be.” A rough voice cuts in, and Oger looks down to see blue eyes staring back up at him. “It was my choice.” Lance studies him for a second, no doubt taking in his red, puffy eyes. “Here, help me sit up.”_

_Gently, Oger pulls Lance into a sitting position, his back resting against the wall. Oger chews on his bottom lip, guilt eating up at his insides. It should have been him._

_“Hey. Let me show you something.” Lance reaches into his pocket, pulling out a gold band. His wedding ring, Oger realizes with a start. Since he met the man, he’s never seen Lance with the ring on, only the pale band of skin on his finger where it once sat._

_“I’ve kept it safe all these years,” Lance explains running a finger over the tarnished metal lovingly. “I’ve hidden it in places I’d rather not go into.”_

_Oger shoots him a confused look. The older man sighs, the corners of his eyes crinkling and Oger suddenly regrets his curiosity._

_“Let’s just say it was easier going in then it was going out.”_

_A second passes before the young boy gags, not bothering to hide his disgust as the meaning of Lance’s words sink in. “Ew! Mr. Lance, that's way too much information!”_

_He just shrugs, a playful smile on his lips. “I’m just saying.” He holds out the ring to Oger. “Here, take it. Let it remind you that even when things seem hopeless, the Galra can’t take everything from us.”_

_Still, he is hesitant to take it. It’s a beautiful and touching idea and would warm the heart of just about anyone. But he can’t help the images of where that ring had been flashing though his mind. Lance scoffs, chuckling softly._

_“I did wash it, you know.”_

_Huffing, Oger takes the ring, tucking it into his pocket. “It sure feels like they’ve taken everything from us,” he mumbles under his breath._

_For a split second, Lance’s cool façade cracks, the very real pain he’s feeling leaking out, but before Oger can blink it's gone, replaced by a look of exasperation. “Never think that way, you hear me? They can hurt us and yell at us, but they can never take away our memories, the good ones from before. Memories that make us laugh, the people who make us smile.”_

_Oger thinks about his mom, how she’d kiss his forehead every night before he went to sleep. Lance gives him a knowing smile._

_“Don’t ever forget them, Oger.”_

  
  


Lance shoots him a dazzling grin and Oger gets a glimpse of the man he once was, before the Third Wave. The man who wooed the love of his life with puns and laughter, who saved the universe from the Galra not once but twice, the man who never let these monsters break him, no matter what. The man who still loved his wife with all his heart, even after ten years alone.

“Promise me, when you think of me you’ll smile?”

He takes a deep breath to calm himself enough to speak clearly. “I promise.” Oger chokes back a sob but not soon enough, and Lance shakes his head, his blue eyes full of raw emotion.

“Hey now, don’t be going soft on me.” He bumps a fist against his chest. “Remember, hearts of rock, except for the ladies.”

This only makes Oger cry harder, but he mirrors Lance’s gesture all the same. “Hearts of rock, except for the ladies,” he manages to say through the sniffles.

Lance closes his eyes, leaning back against the wall, a peaceful smile taking over his face. “Good. Now I’ve kept you long enough. Get out of here, you bugger.” There's a teasing tone to his voice but it does little to quell the dread rising up in Oger. 

“Lance?”

The older man cracks one eye open. “Yes?”

Oger swallows. “I love you.”

Lance looks shocked for a moment and Oger thinks he’s stepped out of line. Then, he exhales shakily. “I love you too, son.”

  
  


_“Deep breaths, Oger,” Lance soothes. “Focus on my voice.”_

_Oger writhes on the floor, the sharp pain in his leg overwhelming. Lance is sitting by his side, his hands on his shoulders, his eyes full of worry._

_“Oger, you gotta focus on something other than the pain.”_

_The boy shakes his head. “Can’t. It hurts too much.”_

_Lance sighs, sitting back on his heels slightly. “Okay, let’s play a game.”_

_Even in his delirious state, Oger knows it’s a stupid idea. “A game?” he pants out._

_“Yeah!” Lance tries to sound upbeat. “A game.”_

_The younger boy decides to humor him, since he has nothing better to do. “How do we play?”_

_Lances thinks for a moment before he speaks again. “You say a word. Then I have to say a word that starts with the last letter of the word you just said. Then you say a word that starts with the last letter of the word I said. And so on.”_

_Oger narrows his eyes. “No offence Mr. Lance, but that’s a stupid game.”_

_That earns him a chuckle, and Lance’s eyes sparkle. “Come on Oger, you’re not afraid of a little competition are you? Afraid I’ll beat you?”_

_“Oh I know you’ll beat me,” Oger says matter-of-factly. “But it’s not because you’re better than me, it's because you know way more words than I do.”_

_“Just give it a try. I promise I’ll go easy on you.”_

_“Okay, sure.” Oger smiles up at him, the pain in his leg long forgotten. “Ox.”_

_Lance stops, looking at him bewildered. After a few moments he just shakes his head. “Damn kid, you’re too smart for your own good.”_

  
  


Fingers shaking, Oger removes the familiar weight of Lance’s wedding ring from his pocket and slips it on the older man's finger. “It’s yours,” he says before Lance can protest. “You should have it for when you see her again.” 

Lance opens his mouth as if to argue but closes it after a moment, simply nodding his head, his fingers running along the smooth metal. “Thank you.” It's nothing more than a hoarse whisper. 

Oger knows he should bite his tongue, not say anything but the words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. “But you’re right behind me, right?”

There’s an awkward pause before he clears his throat. “Yeah, right behind you.”

They both know he’s lying, that he probably won’t make it out of the cell, but Oger just nods his head and turns away, leaving behind the man he’d come to respect, and beginning his run towards freedom.

Lance’s chances are slim, practically non-existent, but as Oger runs down the halls of the prison he’s called his home for the better part of a year, he clings to the hope that somehow, he’ll see Lance again. That the next time they meet, Lance will be clean shaven, finally rid of the beard he hates so, and in the arms of his one true love.

Oger hopes. Because that’s all he can do.

He’s just about to round the next corner when a small figure dawned in green armor flashed past him. Their eyes lock, and Oger knows, he just _knows_ who this girl is. He watches as she runs down the way he came, off to find the love of her life, and his heart is just a little bit lighter. 

**Author's Note:**

> comments are always welcome!


End file.
